


When We Could Still See Stars

by FeelsForBreakfast



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-09
Updated: 2012-10-09
Packaged: 2017-11-15 23:03:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/532754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeelsForBreakfast/pseuds/FeelsForBreakfast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He finds Zayn exactly where he expects him to be, just like he always does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When We Could Still See Stars

**Author's Note:**

> So here’s the deal with this, it was supposed to be one of my holiday oneshots but it turned out less COOKIES SWEATERS SNOW KISSES and more mattie-why-did-you-write-this-weird-post-apocalyptic-zouis so I’m just publishing it now because I really like it but it doesn’t really fit in with the others.

It’s Christmas day but it doesn’t feel like it. It never gets all that cold anymore, but there’s some part of Louis that still wants snow more than anything in the world. It’s the same part of him that wants stars and to be able to drink the rainwater without wondering if it’ll make him sick. The same part of him that wishes Harry was still alive, the part that knows these things can’t happen but still hopes for them.

He remembers somewhere in his mind that today is supposed to be a happy affair, but since the divorce it’s been strange around the holidays. His sisters all went to his Dad’s for presents last night, after a cheerful Christmas eve dinner that reminded him of a slow and tedious operation. He thinks that the patient might have been dead at the end.

He’s wearing the scuffed up navy toms he got for his birthday and they pat on the dirt path as he runs, the canvas rubbing against the red patches on the backs of his ankles. He’s got his new sweater on, soft and striped and hanging over his hands because it hasn’t shrunk in the wash yet. He likes it better that way.

Zayn is just where Louis knows he’ll be, sitting on his stoop scrawling some drawing in one of his many sketchbooks, charcoal staining his fingers. “Zayn!” 

He looks up at Louis’ approach, a slow smile curling across his face. “You’re early.”

Louis just smiles, planting himself next to him with a smile. “Maybe I just couldn’t wait to see you.”

Zayn lets out a quick bark of a laugh, careful to hide what he’s drawing in a way Louis’s sure he probably thinks is sneaky. “Never could just be alone with yourself, could you?”

Louis shakes his head, peering around to try and see Zayn’s work. “Couldn’t before, still can’t now.”

He catches Louis’ chin in his hand, redirecting his gaze out over the cornfields that make up Zayn’s front yard. “I see what you’re doing, and no you can’t see because I’m not finished.”

Louis makes the saddest noise he can. “BUT ZAYN.”

“But fuck you for coming over early, I was supposed to have another hour at least.” He replies, scooting away and picking his charcoal up from the wood, starting back in on his still unfinished drawing.

“Butt fuck me?” Louis asks, before rolling into giggles. “Really thought that one through before you said it, didn’t you?”

“Shut up.” Is Zayn’s only reply, but there’s a smile on his face so Louis knows he isn’t even trying to be upset.

“Also, maybe you shouldn’t be working on my present on Christmas day.” Louis adds when he’s finally managed to stop his giggle fit.

“And how do you know it’s your present?” Zayn asks, giving him a look of borderline annoyance through his long eyelashes.

“Because it’s Christmas and you won’t show me even though you know I love watching you draw.”

“It took me longer than I thought it would.” Zayn says by way of explanation, continuing to make quick practiced lines on the paper. Zayn is really really amazing at drawing, the sort of amazing that could get him in museums or galleries or something because the detail he puts into his work is kind of ridiculous.

It’s a few minutes later when Zayn looks up at Louis, his stare resigned as he meets Louis’ eyes. “You aren’t going to stop staring at me until I let you see, are you?”

Louis shakes his head gleefully. “Nope.”

Zayn sighs. “You’re insufferable.” But he beckons Louis over, holding his sketchpad out. Louis crawls over to Zayn’s side, peering at the paper he’s got attached to his drawing clipboard. There’s a long moment where he just stares, no words falling from his lips as he runs his eyes over the smiles and friendly features. 

Zayn’s voice breaks him out of his trance, soft and almost worried. “You do like it, don’t you?”

“Course.” Louis replies, biting his bottom lip between his teeth. He recognizes the pictures Zayn used, the faces in them as familiar as his own. The first one is from sixth grade, the five of them sitting on the steps of their middle school, Harry’s arms slung around Zayn and Louis, Niall laughing at something one of them had said and Liam trying to shove a twinkie into Harry’s mouth. Louis has a copy of it pressed between the pages of his favorite book and Zayn has it in his wallet. It was the first picture they took as the five of them, and it’s Louis’ favorite thing in the world.

The second one is from last year. It’s a little bit blurry, dark around the edges, the only light coming from the sparklers they’re holding. Harry has his hand in Louis’ and a sparkler in the other and they’re both smiling like maniacs. Zayn and Niall are back to back, holding the sparklers high over their heads and making silly faces at the camera while Liam sits on the ground and tries to light his with a expression of intense concentration. Is the last picture they have together, before Harry got too drunk and tried to drive himself home.

He never made it there.

It’s not finished, the second picture not completely shaded in, Liam’s face half done and the grass around them not reaching the bottom of the frame, but its still incredible. “Bit of a mood killer.” Zayn says with a self deprecating little laugh because Louis should be saying something but he isn’t, because all he can really do is look at Harry’s hand and his hand and remember that he really used to be happy. 

“Yeah.” Louis says quietly, and he reaches for the place he knows Zayn’s hand is resting and takes it. “Thankyou.” Looking at the picture, of Harry’s smiling face and the curls Louis never used to be able to keep his hands out of, he realizes it doesn’t hurt like it used to. It used to be like fire in his veins and nails on his skin screaming _its not fair its just not fucking fair_ but now it’s like water rushing over him because _bad things happen to good people_ and _he taught you how to love but you couldn’t keep him forever._ It’s more of a memory of hurt than true hurt itself. 

“You’re okay, right?” Zayn asks, running his fingers in small patterns across the back of Louis’ hand as he holds it. “This is okay?”

Louis nods, tilting his head so it’s knocked up against Zayn’s. “It’s perfect. Thankyou.”

Zayn smiles. “Good.”

Louis stands, tugging Zayn up in the process. “I have a present for you too.”

“Oh really?” Zayn asks, a sparkle of curiosity in his eyes. 

Louis nods. “Go put the drawing somewhere safe, I’m taking you somewhere.”

Zayn gives him a bemused look, but runs inside with his picture and comes out with a scarf wrapped around his neck. “Alright, let’s see this present of yours.”

Louis just smiles, taking his arm and dragging him down the path towards their destination. The sun is creeping higher in the sky, bright light shining down through the dusty haze that pulls up from the dirt road. “How far is it?” Asks Zayn after a good bit of walking, their route taking them in opposite direction of the town and far down the road past Liam’s old house. 

“Not far now.” Louis says, just as the line of electrical towers come into view over the rise. 

“This better be good.” Zayn says, looking up at the nearly cloudless blue sky above them. A lot of times Louis resents where he lives, that everyone knows who he is and what happened to him, but when he’s out here breathing the still clean air into his lungs he thinks there’s no place he’d rather be. 

“It is.” Louis promises, though he’s really not sure. He’s gotten Zayn a real present too, one of those beanies he likes in a pretty blue since his other one got lost in the detritus that is Zayn’s room, never to be found again, but he kind of likes this present better even though Zayn can’t hold it in his hands.

A few minutes later Louis pulls Zayn to a stop in front of the two electrical towers, old and gunmetal gray, relics from a time when electricity used to fly through suburban skies instead of slipping through wires buried deep underground. He can practically feel Zayn’s curiosity like it’s a tangible thing, trying its hardest to burst out of his chest while he fights to keep it in.

“Merry Christmas.” Louis says, turning to Zayn with a delighted grin on his face.

Zayn looks from Louis, to the miles of corn fields behind him, up at the towers, and then back at Louis. “I don’t get it.”

Louis just smiles that smile of his, the one that’s devious and a little dangerous. “You aren’t supposed to. Not at first.” 

“I don’t think I like this.”

But Louis knows he does. “It’s kind of a game. And a present. A game present.”

“Louis.” Zayn says in a world weary tone. “Get on with it.”

Louis nods. “They’re Secret Towers. You climb up that one and I’ll climb this one and then we have to yell all our secrets to each other.” Louis explains, gesticulating excitedly between them.

There’s a moment where Zayn just looks at him, and then, “That’s stupid, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. And don’t those towers have barbed wire on them?” He throws his hands up. “Louis Tomlinson you are actually batshit crazy.”

Louis just smiles, pointing upwards. “Do you see any barbed wire?”

Zayn looks up, finding nothing of the sort, just the place where it used to be. “Oh my god, did you cut it off? You cut it off!”

Louis laughs. “I cut it off!”

And then Zayn’s laughing too. “You’re actually an idiot! Who the fuck thinks of these things?”

But Louis is already sprinting across the patch of yellowing grass towards the base and reaching up to grasp the cold metal in his fingers, pulling himself up. “Come on!” And Zayn has no choice but to race after him as Louis climbs into the blue sky. 

It’s a difficult at first, the metal against his chilly fingers, the paint flaking off in his hands, but he gets used to it. There are vines climbing up the side and Louis tries his best not to disturb them, their leaves brushing against his cheeks and fingers as he pulls himself up with sturdy limbs. He looks over at Zayn, who’s almost halfway up already.

“You’re falling behind, Malik!” He calls down as his tower tapers, the metal bands easy to climb as he hoists himself as high as he can. He’s eye to eye with the wires and he reaches out tentatively to touch one, knowing that at one time or another they were deadly. It’s only metal now as he reaches for one, wrapping his fingers around it.

“You know I hate exercise, Lou!” Is Zayn’s only reply as he finally makes it to the top.

“Alright, you start.” Louis calls over, his voice echoing across the open space. It’s kind of incredible being up this high, the fields stretching out before them like a golden carpet, the wind making their metal trees sway ever so slightly.

“This is your game, asshole. You start!”

Louis shakes his head. “But it’s your present!”

Zayn rolls his eyes, muttering what is probably a curse. He says something, loud enough that Louis knows he has but not loud enough to know what it is. 

“Louder! It doesn’t work if you don’t yell it!”

Zayn gives him a look but takes a deep breathe and yells into the air. “I made out with Harry three weeks before you did!”

And the game is off to an enthusiastic start. It feels a little more like a competition than a game and Louis suddenly really wants to win, though he’s not entirely sure what winning entails. “Well I walked in on you guys!” 

Zayn’s eyebrows shoot up on his forehead. “You didn’t!”

“I did!”

“I stole Liam’s oreos for a week and then lied about it!”

Louis laughs, tipping his head back so he can taste the sky. “I kissed Niall at a party, but he doesn’t remember!” It’s more invigorating than he imagined when he first climbed up here, screaming out the little things he keeps wound inside himself, little secrets tossed into the wind so they can’t hurt anymore.

“You slut!” Yells Zayn, but he’s laughing too. “I had the biggest crush on Liam in eighth grade!”

“That is not a secret!”

Zayn pretends to look hurt. “I thought it was!”

“Well it wasn’t!” Louis replies, and he feels like his face is going to break in two because he hasn’t smiled like this for a long time, a reckless kind of happiness splitting him from the center.

“I’m out of secrets!” Zayn calls after a long beat of silence. “I don’t know what else to say!”

Louis just smiles because he’s had a week to come up with secrets and he’s got more than enough saved up. He thinks that might just be him though. Zayn is a relatively uncomplicated person, he has his drawing and his crush on Liam and that’s it really. Zayn is caring and lovely and Louis is a bit thorny on the inside. “I’ve still got some!”

“Well tell me then!”

So Louis does. “You remember the New Years party last year?”

Neither of them had wanted to go, it was still just a little bit too soon after everything fell apart, but Niall was going and so they all went and got entirely smashed and somehow Louis and Zayn woke up in Zayn’s bed wearing nothing but their boxers. “When you told me nothing happened?” He calls back, and there’s something a little weird in his words and Louis wonders if maybe this isn’t the secret he thinks it is.

“Yeah.” He can feel nerves twirling in his stomach and he’s regretting this a little bit, because he feels less like he’s flying and more like he’s about to plummet to the ground. He can still remember Zayn’s lips, his hands and the way he cursed out Louis’ name and then how it felt as they fell asleep together. Can remember waking up and feeling safe for the first time since the accident. “Well stuff happened.”

“I know.” Zayn’s reply is quick and almost too quiet for Louis to catch over the wind. 

“What?” Louis calls, because Zayn was drunk, he was drunk and he didn’t remember and that’s the only piece of the puzzle that fits.

“I didn’t want to ruin anything!” Zayn calls. “You said nothing happened so I let you.”

“You let me lie to you?!” Louis asks, and all he wants to do is jump across the feet between them and grab onto Zayn’s shoulders and do something because he feels like his head is about to cave in.

“Of course I did! I was stupid and it was amazing and I was in love with you so I lied!”

Louis’ foot nearly slips off the rung as he processes the words. “You were what?”

“I was in love with you!” Zayn yells, and he sounds exasperated and almost a little bit nervous. Louis’ insides twist. He makes him nervous.

“I thought you were in love with Liam!” Louis calls back because it doesn’t make sense. He’s twenty fucking feet in the air and nothing makes sense. 

“No, I liked Liam, I’m in love with you!” He pauses then, seeming to realize his mistake. He opens his mouth, but Louis cuts him off.

“You love me?!”

And he does that thing again, where his mouth hangs open but he doesn’t answer. 

“Get down. Get down right fucking now, Zayn Malik.” Louis can feel his heart hopping around in his chest and he needs to jump or move and he can’t because if he does he’s probably going to break his neck so he just climbs towards the ground as fast as he can. 

“Louis, jesus what are you doing?” Zayn calls down from his perch.

“I’m climbing down and so are you!” Louis replies, passing where the vines start and then where the barbed wire used to be, dropping to the hard ground just as Zayn gets a third of the way down. 

He swings to the ground half a minute later and crosses his arms over his chest, looking extremely sorry about the whole thing. He’s doing that Zayn thing he does where he tries his best to close himself off, hunching his shoulders and not making eye contact with Louis and it makes Louis want to rip his skin into pieces.

“So?” Louis prompts, crossing his own arms as he puts himself nose to nose with Zayn, ignoring his efforts to keep Louis out of his personal space.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” Zayn replies, and for a moment Louis feels bad because he told Louis he loved him and Louis is being a complete ass about it. Which is pretty much normal actually.

“I want you to say it again.” Louis replies, because he can and he wants to hear the words on Zayn’s lips because he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about that night sometimes when it was dark and he needed to remember what it was like to feel alive.

“Say what.” Zayn replies, and he’s not amused but Louis can’t help it anymore. He’s greedy, he wants more, needs it like a drug.

He reaches out, his hands settling on the collar of Zayn’s jacket. “Tell me what you remember.”

“I remember kissing you, I remember how your skin felt under mine. I remember thinking you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I remember asking you if we did anything and you telling me you never kissed me. That it didn’t matter to you.” There’s bitterness there in the choppy sentences and Louis realizes that even though Zayn is lovely and caring he’s a little thorny on the inside too.

“It did matter to me.” Louis replied, his knuckles white where they’re holding onto Zayn’s jacket. “It mattered to me and I wasn’t ready for things to matter to me yet.”

“Are you ready for things to matter to you now?” Zayn asks, earnest eyes and arms that are pressed tight to his chest like he’s restraining them. 

“You matter to me whether I want you to or not.” Louis replies. “You make me feel like I’m alright.”

Zayn closes his eyes, a sigh escaping his lips. “Please kiss me.”

Louis nods slowly, leaning in and fitting his lips against Zayn’s. It’s warm and overwhelming and too much all over again but its alright somehow. Zayn’s hands are creeping up underneath the soft wool of his sweater, warm fingers on his skin and it’s making his breath a little rocky and god he’s forgotten what its like to touch someone, to have someone touch him. He closes his eyes, tries to relearn how to kiss. He still remembers how Zayn’s chin felt on his shoulder, the soft scrape of stubble against his skin. Remembers how his smell tangled in the blankets and Louis’ hair, a tiny love bite staining his jaw. 

And he’s not ready to say I love you, he doesn’t think he knows how to get the words out yet, but he can kiss Zayn and Zayn can kiss him back and that’s something.

And something is better than nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! All comments and kudos are appreciated. (:


End file.
